


Connection Lost (Reset Connection)

by a_q



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bondage, Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Polyamory, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:56:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Training sessions with Emma can go any which way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Connection Lost (Reset Connection)

Emma's training methods were as far from Charles' methods as moon was from a frying pan.  
Half the time Mystique wasn't even sure if Emma was serious with the things she made them do, but Angel believed in Emma and her methods. Angel worshiped the ground Emma walked upon, and Emma accepted her worship with calm indifference.

Mystique tried hard to make Angel pay attention to her, not to Emma, who in turn seemed to enjoy the jealousy and fueled the fire when ever there was a chance to do so. But Mystique couldn't argue with the results. No matter how eccentric Emma was, Mystique had never reached such level of strength and control on her own. Or maybe it was because of Angel, or the three of them together, Mystique wasn't sure. Things got convoluted in these training sessions.

This particular evening was an excellent case in point. Once again Mystique found herself strapped to the bed, Angel being the one doing the strapping. Emma seemed to have great fun observing the proceedings. She never did anything physical herself.  
Mystique was sure Emma had never touched her, not once. Considering the intimacy sparking up at times, it was rather odd.

“Angel, dear, what have I told you about securing her elbows? You already got one black eye from her, do you really want to go for the matching set?” Emma asked with a tempered, quiet voice which meant that she was on her most dangerous mood. Angel winced and hurried to tighten the straps. Mystique was sorry about the eye, she hadn't meant to hit her. She blamed Emma for it.She designed these sessions, all injuries were on her consciousness. Not that she seemed to care.

“Pick a movie star. Any movie star,” Emma said to Mystique when Angel had finished with the straps and stepped away from the bed.

Mystique tried to think, which was a bit difficult at the moment. No slack left to move and exposed to a woman who had only scarce hold on any type of ethical code. Still, Mystique was more thrilled than scared. Mystique shuffled through all the possible bodies in her repertoire. There was dozens of bodies she could copy in a blink of an eye, but she didn't have many movie stars. Charles had always said that taking a shape of someone recognizable was far too dangerous, even if she only did it for her own amusement.

“Pay attention, please,” Emma said and Mystique swiveled her thoughts away from Charles. Emma seemed to pick up that name every single time, and it also irritated her quite a bit. Sometimes Mystique thought about him, just to spite Emma. That never ended up well, but she did it anyway. Her bid of independence, childish as it was.

Mystique chose the body of a young woman with the chestnut colored hair that she had once seen on a small support role in a romantic comedy. She had a perfect, smooth skin and hour-glass figure. Mystique shifted, letting her skin dictate the pace. It didn't matter if she was strapped down, she just took the feeling of immobility into account. A little detail that she hadn't really thought about before she had started training with Emma.

“Very nice, don't you think so Angel? Now, I want you to tickle her the same way you did yesterday. Start from up, move down and stay on the right side of her body.”

Angel touched her hand with the feather, and trailed the path down her arm, over the collarbone, down the side, skipping over the hip bone and trailing down inside her brand new thigh.

The feeling was strange, like an echo from the day before. There was no buzz, her skin barely even flinched. Mystique kept staring at Angel, willing her to look into her eyes. Of course she didn't and she wouldn't, not when she carried out Emma's orders. Mystique knew it, but still she couldn't stop herself from trying. She was sure Emma found her attempts completely hilarious. Mystique wanted to know what Angel felt, but she kept her eyes averted away from her.

“This body doesn't seem to be ticklish at all. Can you feel the feather?” Emma asked curiously, as Angel retraced the path with the feather, ending back to her hand and stopping there.

“I can, but I don't have to react to it,” Mystique said, realizing that it was true as she said it. The shaped body did feel, but there was a break, a disconnection between it and herself.

“Angel, go again. What is this girls name?” Emma asked, walking around Mystique, vanishing somewhere past her line of sight. The feather flowed against her skin, following the earlier route.

“I don't know. I don't remember,” Mystique said, her attention shifting back to Angel and the feather.

“What name would suit her then? Is she a Mary? Cindy?”

“Susan,” Mystique said and a sparkling shiver blossomed on her side as the feather passed the ribs. “Her name is Susan, and she is a secretary and she loves ice cream.” With every detail she added, the brush of feather became clearer and sharper. Susan's toes curled in anticipation.

“What do you think of Angel here, Susan? May I call you Susan?” Emma asked, returning back to her line of sight, standing next to Angel and wrapping her arm around Angel's waist. The feather moved on, getting closer to her knee.

“She seems sad,” Susan said. “I don't think she wants to be here.”

“And do you want to be here, Susan?” Emma asked, pressing her lips against the curve of Angel's neck. She closed her eyes and Emma took a hold of her hand, keeping the feather moving. “Susan the secretary, Susan who likes ice-cream? Susan who wants to kiss Angel?”

The body convulsed against the straps when the tickle hit it like a crashing wave, and Mystique tried to control the reaction, and this strange body that had suddenly turned against her in a blink of an eye. Emma smiled over Angel's shoulder, moving Angel's hand like she was a simple prop in this game.

“Do you want to kiss her like this, maybe? Or like this?” Emma asked, kissing Angel more, every kiss a different than the other, still moving the feather. Mystique screamed and laughed, her voice shaking Susan's body.

“Open your eyes Angel. Look at her. Isn't she beautiful? She wants to kiss you like I'm kissing you. Would you like to touch her too?”

“Yes. Please?”

“You can touch her with the feather, keep going, she likes it,” Emma said and released her hold from her hand. For a moment the feather stood still, and then the pattern returned, the feather moving all the way up and then down again, in slow strokes.

Emma slid her hand equally slow across Angel's bare skin, dipping her hand inside her low cut blouse. Mystique stared at her with angry yellow eyes as Susan's body twisted and struggled under Angel's tickling. Emma smiled in reply.

"See? Now we are learning something."


End file.
